That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(27)

And just like that, my heart squeezes in my chest. Even though I like the boy I grew up with, and I love teasing and joking with him, there is something about this new, sensitive man that I’m growing to like even more.

After another bite, I say, “When you invited me over for dinner, I almost expected you to make me some kind of gourmet meal.”

A mozzarella string drips from his mouth. He slurps it up. “I don’t cook anymore. You know that.”

I tilt my head to the side, trying to understand him better. “You mean, you don’t cook at all?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Why?”

“No need. I either eat at my parents’, eat out, or eat something that’s premade. And leftovers from my parents usually last me awhile, too, since they like to make meals for what seems like the entire town.”

“But cooking was your life.”

“And it’s not anymore, so let’s not start out the evening with a fight, okay?”

“I wasn’t fighting with you, but if you want to fight, we can fight.”

He shakes his head and smirks. “I’d rather not, unless it’s followed by makeup sex. Then put on your gloves, Roberts; we’re duking it out.” He throws a few cute little jabs in my direction.

“It always comes back to sex with you, doesn’t it?”

“For all guys, babe, all guys.” He winks.

“Babe?” I ask, surprised at how effortlessly the word fell from his lips.

“Yeah, babe. Have a problem with that?”

“Seems like you’re moving pretty fast. What’s going to happen next week? Are you going to get down on one knee and propose?”

“No, but I’m going to go down on one knee, throw your leg over my shoulder, and eat you out.”

I roll my eyes and lean back in my chair. “Seriously, try to go five minutes without talking about sex.”

“Impossible.”

“You’re not even going to try?”

“Nope.” He smiles broadly and takes a brief sip of wine. And oh my, seeing Reid drink wine is sexy, the way he quickly takes a whiff of it, swirls his glass—he doesn’t just drink it; he appreciates it. “So how was your day? Marv give you any trouble?”

“No, he was good. Tipped well, left at a decent hour, and I didn’t have to shove him out with a broom. It was a win. What about you?”

He plucks a pepperoni from the pizza and pops it in his mouth. “Nothing too special, just the normal shit.” He stares at me for a few moments and then says, “My family knows.”

“As in . . .”

“As in they know.”

My body immediately heats up, and I don’t know if it’s from nerves, embarrassment, or anger. Maybe all three. The last thing I need right now is the Knightly family knowing that I’m doing it with their son.

Plus when the Knightlys know, the whole town soon finds out.

“How? Why? I thought we weren’t telling people.”

“Yeah, about that.” He looks out the window to the harbor. “I might have told Brig.”

“Brig?” I shout. “Why on earth would you tell Brig? Out of all of your siblings, you told Brig? Rogan would have been your best bet. He doesn’t care about shit like this. Why on earth would you tell Brig? He’s almost as big a gossip as Franklin.” I’m hysterical—I can hear it in my voice—but the last thing I need is for someone to tell Eric and for him to finally come back to Port Snow . . . angrily.

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m closest to him,” Reid answers, irritation edging into his voice. “He just told my siblings. I went down to the garage the other day and threatened his life if he told anyone. He won’t say anything, so don’t worry, princess, your secret is safe.”

“Whoa.” I push back from the table. “Excuse me, but I thought this was going to stay just between us for a bit. Sorry if I’m upset about four people already knowing. And since Ren and Harper are attached to your family, I’m going to guess they already know too.”

“What if they do?”

“Are you kidding me? Reid, it would be nice to know that I could date you without the entire town watching us. It’s been a week, and I haven’t even seen you that much. This is supposed to be our first date, and instead of having a nice time, we’re fighting.”

“Because you’re getting defensive. What’s really going on? Are you embarrassed of dating me?”

What is happening right now? He can’t possibly be serious.

“Why on earth would I be embarrassed?”

He waves at our surroundings. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m not what you probably expected when it comes to a boyfriend? A poor fisherman who lives on a houseboat, scores leftovers from his parents, and sells fudge to rabid tourists.”

Completely caught off guard, I jump up from my chair and head to the door. A week. It’s been a week, and we’re already at each other’s throats. Maybe this was a terrible idea. I knew Reid had a temper, I knew losing the restaurant was a blow to his self-esteem, but him turning that all on me is not fair.

“Where are you going?” He stands as well and strides across the room, beating me to the door. I reach for the handle, but he presses his palm against the wood to stop me.